In every sport, there are era’s that are almost universally acknowledged as great; periods of time when the game found itself elevated by those who played it. In the sport of boxing, that takes on even greater significance, considering it is the only sport where more often that not, the game eventually plays the players.
Today’s heavyweight division is bemoaned for just how much it lacks. A great deal of this is because of the two era’s it is being compared to. The first is the most recent: the era of the bigger heavyweights, with fighters like Evander Holyfield, Lennox Lewis, Riddick Bowe and Mike Tyson.
The second is perhaps the greatest era in heavyweight boxing history. It is the era of Muhammad Ali, Ken Norton, George Foreman and “Smokin’” Joe Frazier.
Frazier was a fighter’s fighter, a Philly man, and for those in the game, that means something, even now. After all, Philly is the home of the Blue Horizon, one of the legendary ports of call in the boxing world. It’s also the city where some of the most brutal gym wars were ever waged. More aspiring boxers who try their hand at the sport in the “city of brotherly love” find that association painfully ironic. Philadelphia supports its favored sons, but behind that curtain of snow, inside the gyms, many would-be champions find out the truth: the city is a cruel mistress, and she eats her young. In the world of boxing, Philadelphia is Sparta.
There have been many great fighters who have brawled their way out of Philly and onto the world stage, but as is often the case, the killer is also the cure. Those fighters caught the eye of the world with their heart and skill and willingness to war, and those attributes were honed by the same gym wars that shortened their careers. Fighters such as Sonny Liston, Tim Witherspoon, David Reid, Freddie Pendleton, Meldrick Taylor and many others went on to win world titles, only to lose them in short order, often times after only one defense. They say that the candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long, and much of the candle wax of those careers ended up on the gym floor. But it is often necessary to bring a torch, burning bright and warm, into the heart of darkness, and Philly can get very dark and very cold.
And Frazier came out of that city to become the heavyweight champion of the world, and more, a legend in a sport full of legends.
Born in 1944 in South Carolina, he relocated to Philadelphia as a teen, and from there he attained his first recognition in the sport, winning the Olympic gold medal in 1964 in Tokyo, Japan.
Six years after turning pro, he was the heavyweight champion of the world.
A powerful puncher with a near lethal left hook, Frazier proved himself a furious competitor, able to take hellish amounts of punishment in the ring, wading forward with his crab like defense, willing to take five punches in order to land one. More often than not, that proved to be all he needed.
On March 8th, 1971, he stepped into the ring against Muhammad Ali, and thus began one of the greatest trilogies in boxing history. On that night, Frazier became the first man to defeat Ali, flooring him with a left hook in round 15 after a war for the ages that became known as “The Fight of the Century.”
He was in the hospital for nine days after the fight.
Frazier was defeated in their second fight, which set up the third and final bout, “The Thrilla in Manila.” The fight was a savage affair that went back and forth for a full fourteen rounds before Frazier’s trainer, the legendary Eddie Futch (mentor to Freddie Roach), called an end to the night because Frazier’s eyes were swollen near shut. Ironically, Ali’s corner was very close to throwing in the towel as well.
The news of his passing, due to liver cancer, brought an outpouring of admiration and regret from many who knew him:
“Good night Joe Frazier. I love you, dear friend.” ―George Foreman.
“There’s no way in the world you should come to Philadelphia and not recognize who Joe Frazier is. It’s the perfect time to build the biggest statue in appreciation for all the heart and love he gave to Philadelphia. It’s just to say how we regret when it’s not there to touch and see. We didn’t realize we had a super special person amongst us that we all in a way took for granted. I said this when he was living, I say this now. That’s the only thing.”—Bernard Hopkins.
“Frazier and Ali were quintessential the apex of pedigree fighting in which each man would not give an inch until they were dead.”—Mike Tyson.
“The world has lost a great champion. I will always remember Joe with respect and admiration. My sympathy goes out to his family and loved ones.”—Muhammad Ali.
And so goes one of the greatest fighters in the history of the sport. May he enjoy the peace that is often only found on the other side of war.
